


Just Go With It

by keeprunning



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:05:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeprunning/pseuds/keeprunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No one before me, then? I thought, with Ginevera at least-"</p>
<p>"I'm in bed with <i>you</i> and you're asking if I've slept with a woman?" Harry thunders, unable filter himself, as usual.</p>
<p>Malfoy makes a hushing noise and rubs soothingly at Harry's biceps in a way he has learned means <i>peace</i>. "I am merely mature enough to consider that you might be interested in both - or any - of the genders, even though you are presently interested in <i>me.</i>”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Go With It

"What do you want?" Malfoy demands, tearing away from Harry's lips with what looks like - to Harry’s satisfaction - great personal effort. He is panting and flushed but he still looks... Well, like a _Malfoy_. He looks debauched, but in a deliberate and perfect way, like he's bewitched that way for a photo shoot.

Harry, for his part, is sure he looks like he's spent all day doing - well, doing he doesn't know _what_ , but something that has left him gasping and sweaty and flushed and embarrassingly un-polished next to Malfoy. And now he's become a mute, staring silence down at Malfoy’s question. Thus far, Harry has been, to turn a phrase, _just going with it._ It's something you pick up pretty fast when you're told you're a wizard at age 11, and then spend the rest of your adolescence fighting a mad wizard that wants you dead. He’s damn good at thinking on his feet, but he’s on his back now, and he's not sure how much farther he can _just_ go. Not that he doesn't _want_ to, of course; he's practically exploding at every gentle swipe of Malfoy’s fingertips. It's just that, if things end up where they look to be headed, he knows that his woeful inexperience will soon be abundantly clear.

Malfoy smirks. "Come now, Potter. It's not that hard a question. Tell me: what have your previous conquests done to make your toes curl?"

Harry flushes violently. "I- they, uh, I mean to say-" he stammers, cursing himself as further comprehension dawns on Malfoy's face with each false start.

Malfoy, to Harry's immense surprise and gratitude, only looks shell-shocked for a moment before taking the softly amused expression that Harry has become so used to, though even six months ago he would've thought it made his face look all wrong.

"No one before me, then? I thought, with Ginevera at least-"

"I'm in bed with _you_ and you're asking if I've slept with a woman?" Harry thunders, unable filter himself, as usual.

Malfoy makes a hushing noise and rubs soothingly at Harry's biceps in a way he has learned means _peace_. "I am merely mature enough to consider that you might be interested in both - or any - of the genders, even though you are presently interested in _me._ ”

Harry, uncomfortable faced with a question he hasn't even begun working out with himself, tries to shift away. Unfortunately, as both he and Malfoy are stark naked, this mostly results in their hard-ons rubbing together in a way that makes Harry want to cry out. He does, before he can catch himself, and it trails off into an embarrassed groan as he feels Malfoy's shoulders  shake in his trademark, silent laughter. Harry stuffs his face into the closest pillow and and mutters, wishing he knew a wandless spell to make himself disappear through the floor.

"Didn't quite catch that," Malfoy says, amusement coloring his tone.

"I said," he sighs, twisting round to face Malfoy, "That it appears that I am _very_ interested in you."

"As am I," Malfoy says and then he kisses Harry, close-lipped and very forcefully. Harry gets the distinct impression that he's trying to say something very serious without having to use any words - which is typical, for Malfoy.

"I wish you'd told me," he says quietly, surprising Harry with his honesty. He says the words with their lips still touching, his hands trailing from Harry's biceps to play at Harry's ribs. "That this was your first time."

"What - so you could mock me? Or be overly attentive and - and, you know. treat me like I'm going to break, or something, like..." Harry trails off, flushing. 

"Like everyone else does," Malfoy finishes neutrally. 

Harry nods. "You never have, and I didn't want to give you a reason to start."

Malfoy looks at him appraisingly. Finally, he says. "I don't think you're going to break. And even if I did, I wouldn't treat you like it, because -  because I know. It doesn't help." There's a thick pause and their gaze is electric. Harry feels himself pulling and pleading and wonders if Malfoy isn't alone on the silent-communication front.

"So," he says thickly, breaking the eye contact before it becomes something more than either of them are ready for.  "What would you have done differently? If I’d told you?"

"Oh. I - there would be much more tutelage."

"You would have made me study for _shagging_?” Harry says doubtfully, eyebrows shooting up.

“Of course not, idiot,” Malfoy says, and regards him for a quick moment before his face breaks out in a wolfish grin. "I would've taught the Chosen One how to suck cock. I'm an excellent choice for a mentor - as you may, recall," he adds, slyly.

Harry feels his eyes all but bug out of their sockets. He feels like a prude because the off-hand mention of sex and the casual use of the word ‘cock’ is making him blush like a school girl. But he knows a moment later that he decidedly is _not_ , because he thinks of Malfoy’s offer and of Malfoy’s _cock_ and his own mouth and suddenly the room is very hot and very small, and Draco Malfoy is water.

"S'not too late," he mutters, eyes flicking down involuntarily. He forces his gaze up immediately, but Malfoy's already noticed.

"Make up for lost time?" He asks with a venom less chuckle.

“ _Yes_ ” Harry enthuses, like _absolutely_ , but he’s talking about lost time with a particular blonde haired boy rather than his pitifully small sexual history, and he can tell by the sudden gleam in Malfoy's eye that he hears the difference.

"I will, Harry. only if you want me to, though, okay?" He mutters, low.

"Not going to break," Harry reminds him, and when he remains impassive says. "Please. I want you to. I want… You,”

Malfoy smiles the special smile that Harry is beginning to suspect is just for him, and and unfolds gracefully to stand beside the bed.

"Right then, Potter. On your knees."


End file.
